Austin
A few weeks in, you’d think I’d be used to it. The endless drills in summer heat, the locker room stinking like unwashed gear and cheap soap, guys slapping each other with towels like they were twelve. But today felt worse somehow. We were all restless. Practice had ended late because Coach had decided we needed another round of sprints to “build character.” The only thing it built was rage. I dumped my helmet on the bench, raked sweat-soaked hair back, and let out a loud, fake cheer that got some snickers from the guys.
Connor Fitzgerald picked that moment to jump up on one of the benches, still only in a towel.
“KEGGER AT MY PLACE TONIGHT!”
His voice echoed, stupidly proud. Cheers exploded. Towels whipped. Lucas actually howled.
I rolled my eyes, smirking. Typical. Connor wou
